


Anything For You

by avoidingavoidance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, everyone loves shiro and wants him to be happy, hunk is shiro's service top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidingavoidance/pseuds/avoidingavoidance
Summary: They don’t have sex every time he asks. It all depends on what Shiro needs, really. Sometimes he needs sex, sometimes he needs to be held and comforted. Sometimes both.And Hunk, well. Hunk just needs to give Shiro whatever he needs.





	Anything For You

The first time Hunk noticed, he and Shiro had already been dancing around each other for what felt like an eternity. Shy smiles, hands brushing, late nights spent in Yellow’s hangar talking technology and physics and alien constellations. Hunk swears they’d almost kissed one night, both exhausted and sore and in need of companionship, but something had pulled them apart at the last second, and they’d maintained that careful space for days after.

Then one evening, when everyone was relaxing in the common room after a mission, Lance had walked behind Shiro and ruffled his hair pretty hard, almost hard enough to pull it. It all happened in a fraction of a second, not even a full heartbeat, and if Hunk wasn’t so damn good at looking for the signs, he never would have noticed at all.

Shiro’s eyes rolled closed. He tilted his head back just by a millimeter. His thighs spread apart on the couch just a hair wider than they already were.

Submission.

If Hunk had blinked, he would have missed it entirely. Then it was over, and Shiro laughed, and time moved forward once more.

It was enough, though, that fraction of a second. Shiro was touch-starved, almost dangerously so. He was in need of a very particular kind of attention, although he probably could have used every flavor of affection they had on board.

Still, Hunk saw the signs, and he couldn’t unsee them. He couldn’t unfeel it, either, the urge to go to his knees for Shiro until that starvation was at least the tiniest bit sated.

It had taken a while, both for Hunk to gather the courage to offer his help and for Shiro to actually accept it, but eventually that careful space between them fell away altogether, and Hunk is slowly getting better and better at figuring out when Shiro needs him.

\--

There’s something off about Shiro today.

Everyone can tell, in some way or another. Keith can tell just by the way Shiro blocks his strikes a hair slower than usual, the way his guard slips more easily, the way his brow furrows when he missteps. Lance can tell by the way he keeps dragging his hand through his hair until his forelock starts to stick up. Pidge can tell by the angle of his shoulders, the slight bow to his spine that belies all the weight he carries on his soul. 

Hunk can tell any number of ways.

He’s so used to watching people, trying to gauge their moods just through body language. Well, and reading their diaries if they have them, but Pidge is the only one who bothers recording their thoughts at length. Shiro doesn’t keep one (although maybe he should), so Hunk makes do with what he can get.

For most of breakfast, Shiro keeps his gaze locked on the floor, or on their food. He doesn’t bite his nails when he’s anxious, but he does grind his teeth, and the tight set of his jaw gives away hours upon hours of tension there even though most of them have only been awake for twenty minutes or so.

Training that morning is difficult. Everyone can tell that Shiro’s having trouble, and no one seems to know what to say to him. If they bring it up in front of the group, he’ll just shrug it off, close himself off, pretend nothing’s wrong. Hell, there’s a good chance he’ll shut down in private, too. 

For most of them, at least.

While Shiro’s chugging a water packet during a break, standing stiffly far away from where everyone else is recovering from the bots, Keith slinks up beside Hunk, arms already crossed in frustration.

“Nothing, huh?” Hunk asks, both of them watching Shiro closely.

Keith huffs loudly, his frown deepening far more than usual. He and Shiro had had some brief alone time when, due to one of Shiro’s more severe missteps, they’d both ended up being swallowed by the floor. Hunk had hoped that privacy would help, but by the way things look...

“It’s bad this time,” Keith finally mumbles. “I think it’s been days since he slept.”

Hunk sighs and glances back over at Shiro, watching him anxiously flex his Galra hand over and over, clenching his fist and shaking it out, like he would if it could cramp. One of his worse anxious tics. Hunk rubs the nape of his neck and looks down at Keith, who has ceased pouting and is now just watching, his concern obvious.

They continue staring silently for a while, watching Shiro drain another two water packets. Hunk is already plotting, already trying to think of something he could do when Keith grumbles and turns to face him.

“I know there’s something going on between you two,” he says, completely unconcerned for who might be listening. 

Hunk bleats out a loud, nervous laugh, frantically glancing around and adjusting his headband. Lance and Pidge are badly pretending not to be eavesdropping, and Allura has somehow moved about ten feet closer to stare intently at the training plan on her tablet. 

“I-I don’t, uh, what?” Hunk wheezes. “What d’you mean? Me?”

“Oh my god, dude,” Keith groans, throwing his hands up. “ _Everyone_ knows.”

“Keith,” Allura butts in, giving up on the pretense of the training plan entirely. “We all agreed we’d wait for them to say something first.”

“They’re _taking_ too long,” Keith growls right back, at which Allura just rolls her eyes, not intimidated in the least. Turning back to Hunk, Keith crosses his arms again, the sulk back in full force. “Look, no one cares, okay?” Hunk gives a truly unimpressive squeak, twisting his fingers anxiously. “No, really. No one. But you gotta do something about this.” 

Still clinging desperately to their flimsy secret, Hunk laughs again and glances around, quailing more and more under everyone’s knowing stares. “W-what, like, uh, cook something? I can cook stuff—”

“Hunk, my man,” Lance groans from the floor, lifting one long leg to kick Hunk squarely in the ass. “No one wants your stress-baked lens thingies again.”

“Rude,” Hunk huffs.

Pidge picks that moment to cut in. “Look, whatever it is you do, it helps. That’s what Shiro needs right now.” Hunk glances over at them, his anxious fidgeting stilling. Pidge gives him a meaningful look. “He needs help.”

Hunk bites his lip at that, glancing at the floor, then over at where Shiro is still standing in his corner, roughly running his hand through his hair, seemingly oblivious to everything but the tablet in front of him. 

Giving up on the charade, Hunk deflates, then nods. “I’ll talk to him tonight, yeah.”

“Thanks, bud,” Keith says, clapping Hunk on the shoulder.

Lance leers up at him, still sprawled across the floor. “I expect a fully functioning Shiro by tomorrow morning, big guy.”

Allura sighs at that, pinching the bridge of her nose, before using her heel to roll Lance onto his face, much to his chagrin. “Just do what you can, Hunk,” she says, offering him a kind smile.

Hunk nods again, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully.

\--

After Shiro gets his ass handed to him for the third time by a bot they know he knows by heart, Allura calls training early. She takes over the usual post-training pep talk for him, too, seeing as he’s already out the door by the time everyone’s convened in the middle of the room. Hunk lets him go for now, lips screwed to one side.

Shiro isn’t in the showers after that, nor is he in the kitchen for dinner. Hunk hadn’t expected much else, but he can’t help but worry. It’s in his nature.

Midway through dinner, Lance leans toward him, a sharp eyebrow raised. “So when you said you’d talk to him tonight, did you mean sometime next week? It’s been like an hour, dude.”

Hunk rolls his eyes, but before he can explain, Keith speaks up from where he’s pushing his food goo around his plate. “Not yet.”

Both of Lance’s eyebrows shoot up this time. “What, are you letting him ferment or something?”

Keith gives him a confused frown, dropping his spork in favor of crossing his arms. “He needs some time first.”

“He’s _had_ time.” Lance gives Keith an accusatory wave of his spork. “Probably too much time, if you ask me.”

Shaking his head, Keith slouches in his chair and stares at the ceiling. “He fucked up a lot during training, and he knows we all saw it. He knows we’re worried, too. Now would be a bad time.”

Lance seems like he wants to object to that, but he decides against it. After all, very few people know Shiro better than Keith. He glances over at Hunk again, who gives him a chagrined shrug. It’s unfortunate, but true. As much as Hunk wants to check on Shiro, as much as he wants to offer him his help, Shiro needs time to cool off. The man has his pride, after all. 

\--

When Hunk stops in front of Shiro’s door later that evening, he lifts his hand to knock, but hesitates.

Yeah, there’s definitely something going on between them. He’s not sure exactly what it is, but he knows it’s something both of them badly need. It’s warmth in the cold of dead space, familiarity in any number of alien lands, comfort against the cruelty of what their lives are now.

He knows this, and Pidge had told him point blank that it helps.

Even so, Hunk can’t quite get rid of his age-old anxieties.

What if Shiro doesn’t want him right now? What if he does more harm than good? Or worse, what if whatever they do helps Hunk, but makes Shiro feel worse somehow? Hunk always struggles with these things whenever he’s standing outside Shiro’s room, even when Shiro’s the one that asked him to come by. 

Shiro didn’t ask for him this time, and that just makes him worry more. He wants to help, though, and he can’t help if he doesn’t knock.

So he knocks.

It takes a little longer than usual, but Shiro opens the door, his hair still wet from a shower, white forelock hanging in his tired eyes. He’s wearing loose sweats and an unzipped hoodie, which he’s haphazardly holding shut with one hand. When he sees it’s just Hunk, though, he lets his hand fall to the side, the hoodie parting to show dark, blooming bruises on pale skin.

Hunk winces slightly, then meets Shiro’s eyes again.

“Can I come in?”

Shiro blinks at him slowly before he nods, stepping aside to let Hunk in.

The door swoops quietly shut behind him, and Shiro locks it behind him with a swipe of his hand. A promising start, at least. Shiro leans his shoulder against the wall and drags a hand down his face, his exhaustion clearly evident. “What’s up?”

Hunk raises his eyebrows. “I should be the one asking you that.”

Shiro groans at that, slumping against the wall fully, letting his head fall back with a quiet thud.

“That bad, huh?”

He hates to admit it, but all Hunk can do is shrug and nod, already moving closer. 

Hunk knows better than to ask what’s wrong. When Shiro’s like this, tense and sleep-deprived, he has trouble opening up. It’d just frustrate him more to try, so Hunk doesn’t make him. Instead, he stands in front of Shiro, then reaches out and rests a hand on his arm. Shiro blinks his eyes open at the feeling, and now that he knows someone’s in his space, Hunk lets himself touch him more.

He slides his hand into Shiro’s hoodie, gently running his rough, warm palm along the sharp curve of Shiro’s waist. It’s a touch meant to comfort, to get Shiro to relax a little, and after a long moment of Hunk rubbing his thumb against a long, thin scar under his ribs, it starts working somewhat.

Some of the tension runs out of Shiro’s shoulders, his body deflating with a long, tired sigh.

Hunk’s anxiety is all anticipatory. It’s obvious once they’re together than he is actually helping Shiro. It’s just harder to remember that when they’re not alone.

“How can I help?” Hunk murmurs, close enough now that he can feel Shiro’s breath on his lips.

The first time he’d asked, after far too long spent dancing around each other, it had been just like this, and that had ended in some pretty spectacular sex. They don’t have sex every time he asks, though. It all depends on what Shiro needs, really. Sometimes he needs sex, sometimes he needs to be held and comforted. Sometimes both.

And Hunk, well. Hunk just needs to give Shiro whatever he needs.

Shiro sighs heavily, letting his forehead rest against Hunk’s for a long moment, just basking in his warmth, in his presence. Hunk nudges their noses together gently, reassuringly, which Shiro appreciates for all of two seconds before he moves into the motion and slots their lips together, his hands pulling Hunk against him by his shirt.

Hunk squeezes reassuringly, and he wants to move his other hand to Shiro’s waist as well, but before he can, Shiro grabs his wrist, then guides Hunk’s hand into pressing against his cock through his sweatpants.

Seems like it might be a ‘both’ kind of night.

Breathing an interested hum, Hunk deepens the kiss and palms Shiro indulgently, curling his fingers around him through the fabric as best he can. He gives up on that pretty quick, though, and slides his hand down the front of his pants instead. Shiro sighs into the kiss, his brow furrowing slightly when Hunk wraps his hand around him and squeezes gently.

Hunk slips Shiro’s cock out over the waist of his sweats with a practiced flick of his wrist, stroking him slowly, appreciatively. He rubs his thumb in lazy circles over the smooth, hooded head, waiting until he’s mostly hard to gently tug his foreskin down under the head. Shiro’s still clinging to his shirt, his breath slow and heavy, letting Hunk slip his tongue between his lips with a low hum.

Once Shiro starts rocking into his hand, his cock flushed and wonderfully hard, Hunk pulls back and licks his lips, giving him a light squeeze. He sinks easily to his knees then, tugging Shiro’s sweats down around his thighs, and wastes no time in wrapping his lips around him.

“Ah, _Hunk,_ ” Shiro gasps, leaning heavily against the wall, one shaking hand coming to wind gently through Hunk’s hair. He leaves his Galra hand pressed against the wall, and even though they’ve talked about this, Hunk lets it go for now. He glances up at Shiro and slowly bobs his head deeper, humming around him at the way Shiro’s thick cock fills his mouth, stretches his jaw. 

As Hunk works his tongue around him, sucking and licking in all the ways he’s learned Shiro likes, he lets his hands wander. He pushes Shiro’s hoodie out of the way so he can drag his palms up his flat stomach, trailing his fingers over tensing muscles, making sure to be careful around the new sore spots from training. 

It had taken him ages to admit it, but Shiro loves being petted, especially when it’s Hunk’s wide, strong hands covering every part of him. Hunk takes eager advantage of that every time they’re alone, whether they’re having sex or not. It soothes Shiro, and that’s what’s important.

Shiro’s fingers tense in Hunk’s hair when he takes him deep and hollows his cheeks around him, swallowing just to make him jump and whimper. Humming his approval, Hunk pulls back just enough to slip his tongue under Shiro’s foreskin, rubbing firmly against the sensitive spot under the head just to hear the way Shiro moans for him. He drags his hands down until he can squeeze Shiro’s ass, his touch almost reverent.

One of these days, he hopes to god Shiro lets him eat him out. Hunk’s wanted to for _so_ long, but every time he brings it up, Shiro just turns an interesting shade of purple and changes the subject. 

Today’s not the day, unfortunately, but that doesn’t stop Hunk from squeezing and palming that firm ass, his fingers dipping between his cheeks as he takes Shiro deep and swallows again.

Before long, Shiro’s breath comes faster, harder, and rather than let Hunk bring him off like this, he tugs insistently on his hair, easing himself out of his mouth with a shiver. Hunk licks his lips and gives him a few even strokes, but he lets Shiro tug him to his feet, falling easily into a quick, breathless kiss.

Hunk pulls back from the kiss, but only far enough to duck into Shiro’s neck, dragging hot, wet kisses up his sensitive throat. Shiro shudders against him and leans his head aside for him, clinging tight to Hunk’s vest with both hands. 

Slipping his thumb through slick precome, Hunk sighs against Shiro’s pulse, then whispers, “How do you want it?”

Shiro melts against him, weak as always to the rough, aroused rumble to Hunk’s voice. He swallows heavily, rocking into Hunk’s fist for a moment, before he gently pushes at his shoulders.

Hunk takes a step back, remorsefully letting his hand slip away from Shiro’s arousal. It gives Shiro the room and the presence of mind to slip his hoodie off, dropping it carelessly on the floor. He moves around Hunk then, crawling onto the bed, and the way he buries his flushed face in his elbow and arches his hips off the bed has Hunk’s mouth running dry.

He makes quick work of his own clothes, leaving them in a messy trail crossing the short distance to the bed. He even remembers to take his gloves off this time. When he kneels on the bed between Shiro’s spread thighs, he slides Shiro’s sweats the rest of the way down his legs, dropping them off to the side somewhere. He runs his hands up Shiro’s thighs then, coaxing him into spreading them a little wider, and the position does nothing to quell his almost desperate desire to fuck Shiro on his tongue.

That’s for another night, though, when Shiro’s feeling more adventurous. Right now Shiro’s trusting him to follow a comfortable routine, something established between them that he knows he likes, and Hunk would probably rather die than betray that trust.

Resting one hand on Shiro’s ass, Hunk coaxes him into relaxing against the sheets, then reaches over to the drawer hidden in the wall to root around for the lube and a condom. He can’t help but lean down against him once he has them, though, dragging slow kisses along the slope of his shoulder, his broad, dark hands fitting perfectly into the curve of Shiro’s waist. Shiro sighs quietly, then leans up and looks over his shoulder, and before he has to say anything, Hunk shifts forward and meets his lips, giving him the slow, loving kisses he knows Shiro craves.

Normally this position would be borderline unsatisfying for Hunk. He can’t see Shiro’s face very well like this, and it makes it far too easy to put distance between them. With other partners, it had been Hunk’s least favorite. 

With Shiro, surprisingly, it’s different.

For starters, Shiro is _all_ legs. Hunk is shorter than Shiro by an inch or two, but not when those long legs are wrapped around him or spread across thin sheets. It’s so easy for Hunk to bury himself deep inside Shiro and still be able to comfortably reach his lips, to whisper praise against his ear, to feel Shiro’s body pressed tight against his.

With that in mind, Hunk gives Shiro one more soft, sweet kiss before he sits up again, dragging one hand down the curve of Shiro’s spine. He wraps his hands around those muscular hips and pulls him back slightly, tugging him back enough that his thighs spread over Hunk’s lap. It’s just the right angle for Hunk to give him a long, filthy grind, too, so he does, licking his lips at the way Shiro shivers and arches back for more.

The other thing Hunk has come to enjoy about this position is that it’s much easier for him to appreciate how fucking _gorgeous_ Shiro is, even with all the scars littered in different colors all across his skin.

When they’d started this, Hunk had been tempted to be self-conscious. Shiro’s built like a god, after all, all broad shoulders sloping down into that tight waist. It had become obvious rather quickly, however, that Shiro likes being held down, likes feeling someone bigger than him surrounding him, holding him and soothing him and keeping him safe, so Hunk had thrown his self-consciousness right out the airlock. His softness only seems to help. 

Hunk makes quick work of slicking his fingers with the lube, sitting back on his heels as he slides the tips over Shiro’s entrance. He rests his free hand on the small of his back, his thumb moving in slow, soothing motions across pale skin, and once Shiro’s relaxed under him some, his hands loosely fisted in the sheets, Hunk sets to working him open for him.

As he slides one thick finger into Shiro, moving slowly and cautiously still, he can _see_ Shiro going pliant for him. He gently works his finger deeper until it’s buried up to the knuckle, then curls it down slightly, earning himself a breathy sigh, half-buried in the sheets. 

“Hey,” Hunk murmurs, moving his other hand to squeeze Shiro’s waist. “You okay down there?”

Shiro swallows and nods, then turns to look at Hunk over his shoulder, his gaze dark and hazy already. Hunks bites his lip and wants to feel guilty for letting it get to this point, but he shakes himself out of it for now. Guilt can come later, when they’re talking about it. He starts moving his finger in languid thrusts, eagerly watching the way Shiro flushes and wiggles under him.

“Hunk...” Shiro gasps, shifting his weight to his knees so he can more easily move back into him. “Hunk, please?”

The urge to tease Shiro to pieces flickers through Hunk’s mind, an urge he has given in to multiple times in the past. Right now isn’t the time for that, though. He hums instead and presses a second wet finger against him, rubbing gently until he can work both of his fingers into that tight heat. As he buries them deep and spreads them gently, paying close attention to how Shiro’s body responds to him, Shiro’s eyes roll shut, his lips already parted around soft, panting breaths. 

Hunk leans over him again, balancing his weight on his other elbow as he thrusts his fingers into Shiro slowly. As he nuzzles into Shiro’s ear, pressing soft kisses against his flushed cheek, Hunk whispers, “Not yet, baby.” Shiro shivers at that, his breath hitching as he squeezes around Hunk’s fingers. Purring approvingly, Hunk nips gently at Shiro’s earlobe, then continues, “Focus on me, okay? Don’t go anywhere just yet.”

Shiro lets out a perturbed sound at that, almost _pouting,_ but he listens, taking a deep, centering breath before nodding. Hunk rewards him with soft, whispered praise, then rubs his fingers against Shiro’s prostate in a few firm circles. 

As he starts working a third finger into Shiro, Hunk hums against his shoulder, then sighs, “You know I love you, right?” Shiro gives a sharp, stuttering sigh at that, his eyes squeezing shut again for a brief moment. “We all do, so much. You take such good care of us.” 

It takes a long, shaky inhale, but after a few seconds, Shiro replies, barely a whisper. “Y-yes.”

With a warm, approving purr, Hunk nuzzles against him and leans close enough to kiss him again, grateful and adoring. Shiro arches back into him, hungrily taking everything Hunk has for him, his flushed lips trembling already. He’s only recently started letting Hunk praise him like this, accepting appreciation for all he does for the team. It’s something he badly needs, though, to know that he’s loved, so Hunk hasn’t bothered holding the words back.

“Please, Hunk,” Shiro breathes, gently biting Hunk’s lower lip. “I’m ready, c’mon.”

Just to be sure, Hunk buries his fingers deep and spreads them again. Shiro just melts under him, so Hunk kisses his cheek, then sits up and drags his fingers out of him to grab the condom.

Having been so focused on Shiro, Hunk hadn’t realized just how hard he is, how badly he’s aching to be inside him. He has to bite his lip to keep himself in line when he’s rolling the condom down his cock and slicking it with lube, resisting the urge to rock his hips into his fist. His turn will come in time, once Shiro’s been thoroughly satisfied.

Easing Shiro up onto his knees slightly, Hunk shuffles in closer, then drags the head of his cock all along Shiro’s entrance, unable to resist the urge to tease him just a little bit. Shiro lets him, though, breathing a low, sweet moan and reaching back to run his fingers along what he can reach of Hunk’s hip. As pretty as Shiro is right now, as much as he wants to see him squirming with arousal, Hunk doesn’t push it. He lines himself up, then carefully sinks the head of his cock into Shiro with a low, rumbling moan.

As his hands come to rest on Shiro’s hips, Hunk licks his lips and hums, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the small dimples on his lower back. He works his cock deeper in slow thrusts, paying careful attention as always to the way Shiro moves under him, watching closely for any discomfort. Thankfully, Shiro’s melting under him, his nails dragging lightly along Hunk’s side before he drops his hand to the sheets again. 

Once he’s bottomed out inside of him, Hunk grinds himself deeper, eating up the way Shiro’s breath hitches, the way his spine curves up approvingly. With that unspoken permission, Hunk starts moving.

He starts slow, as always, partly because he’s perfectly aware of how big his cock is, and partly because that’s what Shiro needs right now. Shiro seems to appreciate it, anyway, based on the way his fingers tangle in the sheets, his eyes fluttering closed, lips parted around a quiet moan. Hunk lets one of his hands wander, appreciative as always of the stark, beautiful contrast of their skin, even in the low light of the room. Firmly sliding his palm up Shiro’s side, Hunk rubs his tense shoulder before dragging his fingers under him, between his chest and the sheets. 

It hadn’t taken Hunk much time at all to figure out that Shiro’s chest is wonderfully sensitive. He never gives him the chance to be shy about it, either. With as weak to Hunk’s petting as Shiro is, it’s easy to coax him into letting him play with him a little. He swipes his thumb over the hard nub of Shiro’s nipple with a low hum, then rolls it gently between two fingers, squeezing just enough to get Shiro to make a soft, whiny little noise. 

Shiro rocks his hips back into Hunk’s next slow thrust, squeezing around him, silently requesting more of him. He’s so _gorgeous_ like this, trusting Hunk to take good care of him, Hunk can’t help but oblige him.

Hunk leans down over Shiro again, pressing him against the sheets as he buries himself deep and drags hot, wet kisses along the nape of Shiro’s neck. He uses just enough teeth to get Shiro to gasp for him, then adjusts his position slightly, holding himself over Shiro on his elbows, closing what little space remains between them. His belly presses into the curve of Shiro’s spine, but the lingering urge to be self-conscious dissolves in the way Shiro breathes his name, soft and sweet and just a little spaced out.

He hasn’t forgotten that Shiro had asked more of him, though, so he uses what leverage the position offers him to pull back farther, to rock deeper into him. The angle is better for both of them, too; Hunk gives a low, rumbling moan at how hot, how tight Shiro is around him, and Shiro’s breath catches at the way Hunk’s heavy cock rubs all along his sweet spot with every thrust, the sensation constant and almost overwhelming. The way Hunk’s lips feel against his pulse keeps him centered, allowing him to just sink into the feeling of having Hunk all around him.

Sometimes when they do this, Hunk has to keep talking to Shiro the whole time, has to surround him with his voice as much as his body to truly convince him that he’s not alone. Sometimes, though, it’s enough for him to listen to Shiro’s quiet, stuttering sounds, to keep his lips and his hands on him as they move. Right now, Shiro’s so pliant for him that it’s hard to even find the words to praise him highly enough, so he doesn’t try. 

Instead, he shows his appreciation by grinding his cock into him with every thrust, by finding both of Shiro’s hands and lacing their fingers tight, by burying his own pleasured sounds in the bend of Shiro’s shoulder. 

Shiro freezes slightly when Hunk’s fingers press against the cool metal of his Galra hand, the joints unnaturally still. The way Hunk drags his thumbs over Shiro’s helps soothe him again, bit by bit, until he’s squeezing Hunk’s hands in his, letting himself cling to him without the ever-present fear of his control over his prosthetic slipping.

“You’re wonderful, Shiro,” Hunk breathes against him, his voice ragged with arousal. “You always feel so good...”

“H-Hunk,” Shiro gasps, “Hunk, please...”

“I’ve got you, darling.” Squeezing Shiro’s hands for emphasis, Hunk leans up and nuzzles into Shiro’s ear, then whispers, “It’s okay to let go, love, I’ve got you.”

Shiro lets out the sweetest sound at that, a raw, shaky whimper half-muffled by the sheets. Hunk still hears it, though, and it sends a hot surge of affection running through him. He buries himself deep for a moment and leans up to press a warm kiss to the corner of Shiro’s parted lips, humming lovingly when Shiro leans up for more. 

As he kisses him, Hunk moves his hips in a slow circle, somewhere between teasing and reassuring. He slips his tongue between Shiro’s flushed lips and coaxes some more pretty, brainless sounds out of him, but before he can get too caught up in that, he leans up and starts thrusting again, eagerly watching the way Shiro’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling, his thighs spreading slightly, as if hoping he can take Hunk deeper.

Hunk lets himself move a little harder at that, lending his hips just enough of a snap with every thrust to have Shiro squirming for him. He keeps it steady, though, giving Shiro the even rhythm he needs to succumb to him. 

Shiro shivers under him, his lips parted around near-silent gasps and moans, his restraint fading as he sinks into the safety of Hunk’s affection. He makes these gorgeous little sounds when Hunk’s treating him well, breathless little huffs colored with his raspy, pleasured voice, flushed dark with arousal clear down onto his shoulders. Those pretty noises only grow louder as he gets closer, his voice wavering with each thrust, his expression openly showing how good he feels.

It’s moments like this that remind Hunk why he is the way he is, why he craves this so badly, why he’ll bend so far backward to give Shiro what he needs. Shiro’s always so tense, even when he’s sleeping, his body drawn tight with the smothered urge to fidget restlessly. 

When they’re like this, though, Shiro’s loose and molten under him, his fingers squeezing Hunk’s, his hips rocking and wiggling as he pleases, completely handing his military restraint to Hunk for a while. It’s something about how beautiful Shiro is when he relaxes, something about how deeply he trusts Hunk to care for him that drives him, that makes it so _satisfying_ to do this with him. 

Hunk always knows exactly when Shiro’s reaching his limits, even when he’s beyond words. He tightens around Hunk’s arousal and grinds his hips back eagerly, craving the way Hunk spreads him open, and his hands tremble, even twined with Hunk’s. He’s making these beautiful, brainless sounds, too, half-formed curses and moans of Hunk’s name, too dazed on pleasure to care that he’s stuttering. Hunk moans for him, deep and appreciative, and licks his lips, enamored with the way Shiro’s taste clings to them.

He wants to touch him, but he’s unwilling to let go of either of his hands, not when Shiro’s clinging to them so tightly. Shiro needs it to get off, though, so Hunk compromises; he squeezes his prosthetic hand, knowing he’ll feel the slight pressure, then drags both their hands down to Shiro’s cock.

It takes some coaxing, but he wraps both of their hands around Shiro’s achingly hard arousal, and when he guides them into a firm, steady rhythm, twisting their wrists around the sensitive, hooded head, Shiro’s breath catches in his chest. He leans his head back against Hunk’s shoulder, though, and lets out a long, stuttering whine, his thighs trembling at the feeling.

As Shiro’s squirming under him, torn between bucking back onto his cock and rutting into their hands, Hunk hums and presses soft kisses against his temple, his lips sliding in his slight sweat. He keeps the rhythm of his hips steady so Shiro doesn’t have to think about how to keep pace with him, but he lets himself grind into him a little harder, whispering sweet, encouraging love against his flushed cheek as they move together.

When Shiro comes, it’s with a noisy, perfect cry of Hunk’s name, unconcerned for how loud, how vulnerable the sound is. Hunk groans for him, fucking him through it just the way he knows Shiro likes, driven just a little crazy by how _tight_ Shiro’s squeezing him, how wonderful Shiro’s come feels spilling hot over their laced fingers.

It’s not unusual for Shiro to come down before Hunk comes. Sometimes Hunk doubts he even needs to come when Shiro’s so obviously sated, so well-loved under him, but he knows Shiro wants him to come too. He’s sensitive right now, though, so Hunk lets his hips roll to a slow stop, filling Shiro and surrounding him as he shivers down from his peak. He coaxes him down with gentle kisses, across his cheek, down his flushed neck, along the loose curve of his shoulder.

Once his breathing has evened out, Hunk carefully pulls out of him, soothing his perturbed grumble with a reassuring murmur. He peels himself away from Shiro just enough to roll him onto his back, making sure to avoid the small pool of his come staining the sheets, then strips the condom off and tosses it aside before settling between Shiro’s trembling thighs again.

Shiro licks his lips and blinks down at Hunk’s arousal, his dark gaze hooded and still somewhat hazy. He’s familiar with this part, though, so he rests shaky hands on Hunk’s soft hips and squeezes encouragingly.

Hunk leans his weight on his elbow again, resting his forehead against Shiro’s as he reaches down and wraps his hand around himself, a thrill of arousal shooting through him at the feeling. He starts stroking firmly, his eyes shuttering closed, giving himself the same steady rhythm that he’d given Shiro. His breath comes a little faster then, hot against Shiro’s flushed lips, but before he can start really working himself off, Shiro hums, then reaches down and gently tugs Hunk’s hand away from himself.

Blinking up at him, Hunk makes a soft, questioning sound, but he lets Shiro wriggle closer under him, his tongue poked out in concentration as he wraps both of his hands around Hunk’s cock. Shiro’s hands aren’t exactly small either, so he pretty much covers all of him with room to spare, but he doesn’t let that discourage him. 

He strokes Hunk with both hands, too careful as always with his prosthetic, but as Hunk exhales shakily and rocks his hips into his rhythm, Shiro bites his lip and tightens his grip. He picks up the pace slightly, too, taking advantage of the slickness of Hunk’s copious precome to twist his wrists with each tug. It feels _wonderful,_ and Hunk has no trouble letting him know, his lips parted around soft, rough moans, his cock dripping between Shiro’s fingers.

It takes an embarrassingly short time for Shiro to bring him off like this, but Hunk’s so weak to how Shiro looks under him, fucked out and soft but still hungrily taking in every detail of Hunk’s pleasured expression. When Hunk breathes a choked whimper, the sound vaguely resembling Shiro’s name, he bucks his hips forward into that firm grip, then comes for him in a hot, wet rush. Shiro keep stroking him through it, his lips parted on a satisfied sigh as Hunk’s come drips down his knuckles, dripping and pooling on his stomach.

Once he’s done, Hunk wheezes an overwhelmed laugh and reaches for one of Shiro’s wrists, his hand trembling slightly. Shiro hums, but he lets go of him, unconcerned for the mess dripping from his fingers as he arches up and catches Hunk’s lips in a deep, lazy kiss.

Hunk kisses him until both of their pulses have settled somewhat, his hands steady again after the rush of his orgasm, before leaning up to check on him. Shiro still looks satisfied, still dazed, so Hunk presses another gentle kiss to the center of his chest, then leans over the side of the bed to fish out a small towel from a drawer. He flusters somewhat while he’s cleaning up the mess he’d made on Shiro, careful to wipe off each of his fingers, then makes quick work of Shiro’s release before it soaks through the sheet too badly.

Shiro lets himself be cleaned up, his tired eyes still following Hunk’s every move. He’s not entirely present yet, so Hunk makes sure to stay close to him, dragging soothing, appreciative touches along his thighs, up his flat stomach until he’s done. 

Tossing the towel aside, Hunk settles into the sheets beside Shiro, tugging him into his arms and holding him close so he can lavish yet more affection on him until he’s ready to talk, as he always is afterward. For now, Shiro clings to him in return, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk knows it’ll take a while still, so he waits patiently, filling the air with soft love and praise in the meantime. 

Whenever Shiro’s ready to talk, Hunk will be ready to listen, ready as always to reassure him that he isn’t alone, and that no matter what dark things haunt him, he is loved.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://avoidingavoidance.tumblr.com) and a [twittr](http://twitter.com/gaarbage)


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